


pour your sins on me, baby

by kissy devil (pixiegf)



Series: I'm your heaven, I'm your hell [1]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Blasphemy, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Confessional, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Forced Orgasm, Internalized Homophobia, John Henry is a priest btw, M/M, Masturbation, Michael is not underage, Power bottom Michael, Priest Kink, Religion Kink, Religious Guilt, Sexual Coercion, Temptation, and tries to coerce John Henry into sex, but it's no more than 10 years, even though he doesn't bottom in this part, he just has that energy, he wants to say yes but can't for obvious reasons, kind of, no seriously he jerks off in a church
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 22:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17517413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiegf/pseuds/kissy%20devil
Summary: Michael and Ms. Miriam Mead coincidentally live next door to the neighborhood priest. Michael senses Father John Henry’s darkness often. He knows that he only became a priest because of his family, but is secretly closeted, sexually active, and in close connection with warlocks even though homosexuality, fornication, and belief in witchcraft are strictly condemned in the Catholic faith. Michael finds himself attracted to John Henry’s darkness and out of curiosity, seeks to tempt him.*full disclosure for the second part of this: they fuck in a church, John Henry dies. titles all taken from the song “the valley” by Miguel.





	pour your sins on me, baby

**Author's Note:**

> **please read!!**
> 
> don't continue if you are sensitive to any tags included! 
> 
> I personally grew up Catholic, and I know a lot of churches have confessional booths but mine had reconciliation rooms so I wrote it with those in mind... if you're curious about the setup of those rooms here's the jist: https://www.stjohnthebaptistcostamesa.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/reconciliation.jpg
> 
> I also want to make it clear that as a queer person I of course don't endorse anything the bible says about homosexuality, however many Catholic clergy believe it's a sin so there are some references to that. 
> 
> Michael isn't tempting John Henry because being gay or being sexual = bad, it's because not only was John Henry *taught* that these things are sinful/wrong and equates them to straying from God, but he is also lying to the church. So these lies and his guilt translate to the "darkness" that Michael senses and feeds off.
> 
> happy reading <3

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

Michael shuffled into the dimly lit confessional and claimed the spot behind the gated screen. He dropped to his knees onto the wooden contraption in front of it as he was required to do and set his hands down at the top.

He cleared his throat, fidgeting with the neckline of his t-shirt and passing nervous fingers through the wisps of his hair. Although perfectly content with what he was about to do, being in a church in itself was still accompanied by some uneasiness. But he could function. Of course he could function.

“This is my first confession."

If this confession option was supposed to hide faces, it wasn’t doing a very good job. He could make out Father John Henry’s chiseled profile through the abundance of tiny holes in the screen and didn’t bother to hold back from staring while the priest spoke his greeting. 

More handsome up close, Michael thought. Even with a barrier between them. Very handsome. A built physique, staggering blue eyes, arguably icier than Michael’s own, a jawline that could cut glass. He looked lovely in the tinge of yellow light. Vulnerable, but not innocent.

The darkness radiating off the man enticed young Michael to the point where he’d inadvertently made the bulbs in the room flicker, which he somehow garnered control of rather quickly before it became a problem. Still coming into his powers, Michael wasn’t exactly aware of the entire scope of his capabilities nor did he have much sense of how to properly manage them when his emotions ran high. Right now, though, he was just calm enough. 

“It’s me, Father,” he spoke. “Michael. Michael Langdon. From next door.”

“I knew the voice sounded familiar,” John Henry replied. “I must say I’m surprised you paid a visit. You've always seemed distant whenever we've small talked.”

It was true. They hadn’t spoken much. Ms. Mead was always apt to keeping Christ-worshippers at bay, and Michael hadn’t been inclined to befriend a priest much himself given the circumstances. In fact, it was shocking that he even remembered his voice. But then again, it wasn’t.

Michael nodded and looked down. He gave his folded hands a tight squeeze together. 

“Perhaps I’ve had a change of heart.”

He didn’t even have to catch a glimpse at John Henry to know he was smiling ever so warmly. A smile without a clue as to how he drew the antichrist to his door.

"Good to hear."

If John Henry's secrets ever leaked to the church, he would be considered an unclean Catholic in more ways than one, and Michael knew all of them. Not only had he broken his vow of celibacy and went against the Bible’s teachings about homosexuality, but Behold Chablis has been his best friend for years. How would the rest of the clergy feel if they knew he was in such close proximity to a warlock? He had to give it to him, he played the pious role quite well.

“May I ask why you chose to kneel behind the screen if you planned to reveal your identity, Michael?” 

A pause. He played with his fingers, contemplative. 

“I guess I just… don’t want you to look at me,” the younger man practically whispered as he looked off to the side. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Well you aren’t alone,” the priest assured. “We’re all sinners. What matters is your willingness to repent and grow from your mistakes. What’s on your mind?”

The air was already thick and Michael hadn’t even begun. He reveled in it, the anticipation. His eyes were back on the man adjacent to him, but John Henry’s were steered straight ahead. As they should be. Like a good priest.

“Well, Father, for quite some time now I’ve been having.... thoughts. Urges.”

“Okay,” John Henry said with a slow nod. “What kind of urges?”

Michael wet his lips. “ _Sexual_ urges..”

“…I see. Have you acted on these sexual urges?” 

“No. I mean– yes. A little.”

“A little?”

“Not with anyone.... only myself." 

If desire were a bomb, the man's silence after Michael's admission was the sound of the first tick. 

“Only… yourself,” John Henry repeated back to him, voice slow and cautious to make sure he was understanding correctly. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

“Well I... I think about things. Bad things. Things that…”

He frowned and trailed off, struggling to formulate his approach. But not really.

“Things that make me touch myself,” Michael blurted. “It happens so often, I just... touch myself and touch myself until I finally get release. I-It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong.”

Michael let out a hushed sob and watched the movement of Father John Henry's hard swallow.

Tick. Tick. Tick. It was louder. His itch to turn away from everything he believed was holy— his darkness— was a sliver of meat to Michael’s ravaging hunger. 

“I–I’ve tried to stop, Father, but my mind.... it wanders,” he continued, voice broken, sniffling softly. “And sometimes it’s the same thing... the same fantasy that pushes me to sin this way. May I share it with you? Please?”

John Henry shifted in his seat and adjusted the way his hands rested. They were positioned to put pressure on his groin. Michael knew.

“If it’s something you know you need God’s forgiveness for, then yes, of course you may.” 

Michael took a deep breath. “It’s this thought I have... it’s a man. I don’t have a face assigned to him, but I know he’s muscular, with dark hair on his face... down his navel. He’s hovering over me and he’s sweating... grunting. He’s thrusting inside me... sodomizing me like an animal. And I like it, Father. I like it a lot and I don't understand it. Why do I like it?” 

He sounded pained and desperate and knew John Henry could relate to a startling degree. Given the difficulty of growing up in a conservative household as a boy experiencing intimate feelings for other boys, sexual distress was no stranger to the priest, even now.

“Satan tempts us in a number of ways," John Henry answered, his tone somber. "Some temptations are easier to combat than others... some minds are more susceptible than others. Some have to work harder to resist certain types of sin, but the payoff of eternal life in heaven is worth it. I promise.” 

“…Do you experience temptation, Father?”

“Of course, Michael. All kinds.”

“Even sexual temptation?” 

John Henry took a brief pause, shifting again. A nervous tic, Michael presumed. He knew the answer was yes, but John Henry was smart, not to mention sly. He could say something without saying it any time he had to.

“Even those belonging to the church are only human. Being a priest does not exempt me or anyone else from feeling the weight of average impulses. It’s about how you handle them."

“Do your impulses trap you at the worst possible moments too?” There was something panicked in his voice. “…Like mine do?” 

"What do you mean?”

“I mean I feel it. Right now. It’s happening in my mind. Even within the walls of God’s house, all I can think about is... sweet release.”

“It will only grant you temporary gratification, you have to remember that," John Henry soothed. "You’re better than that, Michael. Aren’t you?” 

The answer was no, he wasn’t better than that. He was the son of Satan. Instead of answering, Michael ignored the question and continued.

“The urge is gnawing at me. I can see my… I- I can _see it_ when I look down. It’s visible. In my jeans, Father, right now. It’s sticking out... taunting me. If I don’t touch it... it'll hurt later. I...” 

Michael slid his palm over his crotch, rolling it over the mound that protruded there and emitting a noise somewhere between a moan and a shaky breath. 

“I can’t stop myself.”

He knew John Henry could feel his eyes on him, hard and smoldering, but the priest remained facing forward out of respect. Or a state of shock. Knowing his true desires, it was, dare he say, cute. 

“I’m sorry,” Michael whimpered, running his hand back and forth along the outline of his erection. “You look like him… the man in my head. I have to-  _mmm_.” He gave it a squeeze.

Michael wasn’t lying when he confessed to experiencing homoerotic fantasies. His preference for gender or sexual roles didn’t exactly exist, that much was obvious. He would love to get rawed by a John Henry. That was, after all, one of the reasons he was here. But maybe he did stretch the truth and tailor a vague description of the man of his dreams to the priest on purpose.

“You know that you shouldn’t be doing this. Especially not here. You know how wrong it is.” 

“I know, Father, I know.” He was crying. He was good at crying. “I’m bad. I’m so bad. But I can’t go out there like this. Everyone will see and they’ll all know how disgusting I am. I feel safe here. With you.” 

John Henry shook his head. “I'm sorry, if you want to stay here... I really need you to try and calm down.”

“I can’t stop, I need to— a-ahhh… please, Father, I need to feel good.”

“Michael, no. To truly feel good in life, you… you need to follow God’s path.”

He spoke the words, but did he believe them? He'd gotten true pleasure while straying from "God's path" on several occasions. At this point he was purely spouting whatever religious bullshit he was told by others growing up.

“Please,” John Henry begged. “Do what is truly good for you.” 

Michael tilted his head. “What about what’s truly good for _you_ , Father?”

His suspicious eyes were burning a hole in the man's temple. John Henry reeked of guilt.

“What are you saying?”

“I can do what’s good for you. I can make _you_ feel good. If that’s what you want.”

It was what he wanted. Michael could feel the lustful energy and longing from where he was. His inner thoughts may as well have been hollered through a megaphone into Michael's ear. It was along time coming; all those passing stares and subtle smirks when he’d stroll by to run an errand. How he’d always conveniently be outside when Michael was mowing the grass or helping Ms. Mead fix a problem with her car.

_Have a lovely day, Michael._

_Need some help with that package, Michael?_

_All dressed up today, aren’t we Michael? Looking smart._

From the mouth of anyone else, those comments would seem benign. But not from this supposedly chaste man of God. Not with what he smelled on him.

“Michael that’s… highly—“

“I can crawl on over there between your legs. Get my pretty little mouth on your cock. You can even push my head down. Does that sound _good_ to you?”

He was holding back. Michael writhed against the cold wood of the kneeler that separated them and keened at the contact despite the layers between.

“You can’t… you can’t do that, that’s enough now—“

“I’ll come sit on your lap and let you rip me apart if you want to. Let you hurt me, tell me what a bad boy I’ve been. I won’t tell. Don’t you wanna blow your load in a tight little body like mine, Father?"

Michael ran a hand from his chest down his torso as if to flaunt it. "I know you've thought about it before," he said. "I know you're thinking about it now.” Maybe John Henry would have cracked if he’d actually given him a glance.

The man broke his frozen position to rub at his beard with an unsteady grip and shake his head. He was at the edge, an inch from falling victim.

"That cannot happen, you know it can't-”

"Oh, how foolish of me to keep calling you Father. You prefer daddy, don’t you?”

The blood pumping through John Henry’s shaft underneath his vestment was nearly thrumming in Michael’s ears. The priest was so tense, so rock hard and throbbing Michael could almost laugh.

“You do.” He smiled in realization. “You’re hard for me. _Daddy_. Not the first time, is it?”

And then, he did laugh. He slid the tip of his tongue over his pearly whites at the left side of his mouth, amused and returning to stroke his clothed cock, more vigorous in his manner now. He wanted so badly to touch himself bare, and he would have, but the friction achieved from the harsh layers of material chafing against his member was a sensation he was fervent to chase.

“No… no, I’m not.”

The tips of John Henry’s ears turned red. He was an expert at playing cool, but he was hot all over. They both were, for slightly different reasons.

“Who are you fooling, Father?" he asked rhetorically. "I’m in your head. You want to touch me, don’t you? Fuck me till the sun comes up. You just feel like you can’t, isn’t that right Mr. Priest? Your life would be over if this got out. You don’t trust me. And I get it. Why would you?”

Their hearts could have been racing in sync, John Henry’s from wild nervousness and Michael’s from chasing his orgasm. Their small pauses rang with the sound of raking skin over denim and Michael’s ragged breathing.

“Not to worry. You don’t have to let me do anything with you. You can simply watch. The Bible doesn’t say anything about watching, does it?” he continued.

He slid a hand down his pants to rid one layer at that point. Rubbing over the cotton of his underwear, just for a second. Just to feel his own body heat; his own warmth.

“You can’t be punished for watching. Especially if no one knows you did…”

It occurred to him how utterly obscene he probably looked, fucking his own palm in a church full of Catholics, in front of a priest who was aching to manhandle him right on the spot. “Oh, _God_ …”

“I don’t want you Michael, I don’t want any of this. It’s inappropriate and ridiculous, this whole thing, it’s bizarre. We’re done now.”

Michael’s features hardened at first, but softened again just as easily.

“If that’s the truth then why haven’t you gotten up and left yet?”

His smile was menacing. John Henry’s eyes fluttered closed in defeat and he held the arms of the chair he sat in. He knew if he looked, he'd cave.

“Aw, come on, you can’t be that ashamed of yourself. Come on, Father, open your eyes, watch me get off to you. Let me give you what you want. What you crave deep down.”

Michael was so close to cumming he was practically out of breath. It became clear after he moved his hand out and placed it back on top of his jeans that his climax couldn’t be prolonged any further. 

“I can’t.” His words were stern. Biting. “Leave, Michael. Please.”

“Look at me, _daddy_. Come on, just once. One time?”

“Get out!”

In an instant John Henry’s eyes were forced open and his head swung to face him against his will. Michael was in white-hot hell, grinding his pulsing member up against his own hand through his jeans and murmuring profanities. It would have been a sight to enjoy, John Henry thought, if he weren't focused on the terror of not being able to move.

With a groan, the dull bulbs in the room blew out violently and a shudder ripped through Michael's body when bucked his hips and came. John Henry watched in horror as the only light in the room became a flash of white across the young man's face that seemed to take all the white in his eyes away, leaving two pools of tar behind for barely half a second. Then, by the grace of what could've only been Satan, John Henry's jaw went slack and he came the hardest he thought he'd ever had, right in his chair.

It was over faster than he could process. Michael gave a smile and a post-orgasm hum as he pet his softening cock over his clothes. He swung open the door with his mind, revealing to both of them that not only had he short circuited the lights in the confession room, but in the entire church.

The priest finally had control of his head back. But even so, his eyes didn’t leave the blonde who was rising from his knees while he mulled over the strangest combination of fear and satisfaction that he felt.

Michael turned back before exiting, offering a gentle touch the damp spot on his crotch with one hand and putting his finger to his lips with the other.

“Shhh."

**Author's Note:**

> please leave something nice I hate everything I write and this is the first thing I've posted I need validation
> 
> will continue if I have the motivation and if anyone wants it, thank you for reading <3


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